O Prophet Homura
by echomimiEars
Summary: When Homura realizes that Madoka was telling the truth about no one remembering her, she decides to change that. (Rated T for character death, not detailed but just want to be safe)


Mami looked at Homura and smiled, slightly confused.

"Homura? What are you talking about?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Madoka. Kaname Madoka, Mami-san. Don't you remember her? After all she did for you?" Homura pleaded with her friend, praying that she wasn't the only one who remembered her dear Madoka.

"I'm sorry, Homura-san. I don't remember anyone named Madoka," Mami replied, looking at Homura strangely.

"O-oh. Okay. Sorry, I must have just thought that you two met," she said, her voice breaking.

Mami smiled faintly but let it go, and continued to speak about her day, occasionally sipping her tea. Homura's tea went untouched, her hands instead stroking the ribbons in her lap.

"Madoka..." she whispered under her breath, Mami oblivious to her pain.

"Homura, stay strong," came the faint whisper. Homura's eyes widened, and she shot up to her feet.

"Madoka!?" she shouted, her eyes frantically searching for the pink hair, the soft eyes of her friend.

Mami stood, taking Homura by the shoulders.

"Homura! Homura," she cried, shaking her. Homura tore her eyes from the air above her and looked at Mami's own concerned, yellow eyes.

"Homura, what are you doing!?" she said frantically.

"N-nothing. I'm sorry. I just... thought I heard something. Sorry. Sorry..." she said, then she turned and left, leaving a very frightened and confused Mami behind.

Homura went down the twisting streets of the town, searching, until she found what she was looking for. She went up to the door and knocked tentatively. The woman who answered the door was a tall, graceful woman. It was plain to see where Madoka had gotten her hair, and the man behind her was clearly the source of her beautiful eyes.

"Hello? May we help you?" asked the woman.

"Y-Yes, uhm, yes. Is Madoka home?" Homura asked.

The woman's brows furrowed, and she sharing a secretive glance with the man behind her.

"Madoka? Who are you?" she said, a lilt of suspicion in her voice.

"I'm a friend. My name is Homura, may I see her?"

A light of realization appeared in the woman's eyes.

"Oh! You're the new babysitter, right?" she said, laughing.  
"Sorry, I just didn't realize you'd be so... young," she said with a smile.

"Come on in," said the man.

Acknowledging that Madoka's own mother and father didn't remember her, she decided to leave. She turned to go, when she heard a small child's voice.

"Mommy, Daddy! Madoka says that she misses Homura. Who's Homura?"

The woman, Madoka's mother, looked at her husband.

"Homura is the new babysitter, honey," she shouted. A little kid appeared around the corner, a small boy. Madoka's little brother.

"I'm sorry," the man said, "I do appreciate you playing along with his imaginary friend. I'm sure he does too. 'Madoka' has always been present, and he says that she's his sister. That's kids for you," he said with a small laugh. Homura began to tear up.

"Madoka...?How can you n-not... How can you not remember your own daughter?" she asked, shocked.

Madoka's parents stood in stony silence for a moment, then spoke.

"You're insane, and this isn't funny. Please leave," said her father, and with the sound of the lock sliding home, she realized that nothing she did would get Madoka back. She fell to her knees and sobbed, tears flowing freely.

_She gave her life, her very form, for these people. And they don't even remember her... she's all alone, wherever she is, alone and sad, with no one but that monster to keep her company. Her entire self is gone, spent on saving these ungrateful people. I'll change that._

Her thoughts swam in her head, until an idea hatched. And so, that was how the word of Godoka began to spread.

Years later, in a village by the ocean, small children played. Their mothers, watching them, smiled and laughed, talking together.

"Thank Godoka for the peace here. With the hurricane last year, I didn't think we'd ever recover," said one.

"Yes! It's a miracle that no one died. Priase Godoka," said another, and a chorus of "Praise Godoka!" was heard through the village.

In a big city in the center of Ikebukuro, a business man sat around his table with his family. Taking his children's hands in his own, he said a quick grace before feeding his family.

"Thank you, Godoka," he began, "for this beloved feast. Thank you for the safety of my family, and thank you for my promotion. Thank you, Prophet Homura, for speaking the truth of our savior and friend. For as long as we remember her, we shall never be alone. Praise Godoka," he said, and his children echoed him.

"Praise Godoka, for as long as we remember her, we shall never be alone."

In another place, a place long abandoned, in a room filled with stuffed animals and posters of pop singers, a single woman sat on a worn bed. The woman took the pillow into her arms and took a deep breath, savoring a smell that smelled more of her than it did it's previous owner.

The woman absentmindedly rubbed between her fingers a worn ribbon, a faded red that was once bright and shimmering. The room's silence was disturbed by a small, childish voice.

"Why do you do this?" it asked, and the woman looked up. In her eyes was a murderous rage, but it seemed... tired, somehow.

At her silence, the voice continued.

"I do not understand you humans. Why do you not simply go back? You have done it so many times before, what is only just one more timeline to you, Homura the Prophet of Godoka? Your time with that title has passed, the word has been spread. Your mission is done here. You have been quiet for so long, do you not long to go back?"

The woman opened her mouth, and spoke for the first time in two years. After she spoke, she threw an object onto the ground. This object was bright and shining, a small egg of life. It's amethyst color shone with the brightness of a star, and the words "FOR MADOKA'S LOVE I WILL SURVIVE" were carved into it. It shattered, and the creature sitting on the floor of that familiar room sat, shocked and still. It's never-wavering smile faltered, only for a moment.

Then, it silently got up and left, taking the empty soul-container with it, the words echoing endlessly in that empty, sad room, around the still body on the floor.

"Because, Kyuubei... I am simply tired. I'm tired of seeing my love die, again and again, with nothing I can do to stop it. And I know that where she is now, she is helping people, and that's really what started it all. All the people that have died because of my selfish desire to save Madoka Kaname are alive, and why? Because Madoka Kaname is now Godoka, a beautiful entity that all the world knows and loves. And that means that Madoka is not alone. She will never be alone. And that's all I've ever really wanted."

If one were to enter what that room was now, they would hear another set of words echoing, a response to the words of a long-dead Prophet. They came from a childish voice that seemed to drip with evil, a recording that began to play four decades after the words of the Prophet.

"Since you have gone, O Prophet, others have taken your place. When one belief of you humans dies out, another comes to replace it. This one is of a man in the sky, named God. These people have forgotten Madoka, but they do not realize that their current belief shows the remnants of their previous one.

But this belief comes with another entity. Now, these humans have their own word for me.

Satan."

In that room that seemed to attract those who had been there before, in the dust of that room, there were a single set of footprints, small and round, almost as if they were the pawprints of a small, white creature.


End file.
